


Some Nights

by NextFewWords



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 6x11 ish, Background story, Captain Cobra - Freeform, F/M, Insomnia, Light Angst, spoilers up to 6x10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10040480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NextFewWords/pseuds/NextFewWords
Summary: Short musings of how Killian spends his nights at the new house while the Storybrook team wait for Emma to come home. Lots of late night thinking and reflection. Spoilers up to 6x10.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to get this in before we are blessed by the 6B premiere on Sunday! There maaaay be another part added on to this. We'll see.

His first few nights alone in the house without Emma were the worst.

Killian knew logically that he had been the one to pick the house and therefore there was no reason that he should be away from it now that he had finally moved in with Emma. It was just as much his home as it was Emma’s; Emma had told him so the first day that he moved in. She had even insisted that the house be decorated with some of the trinkets from his ship, a request that had warmed his heart. Killian hadn’t the heart to tell her that he had never been one for personal possessions and that most of what little he owned was on kept on his person. Besides, he couldn’t imagine anything from a pirate ship finding it’s place in the beautiful home he now shared with Emma.

But Emma had known, of course she had known, and when Killian had arrived home the next day he found his old clock resting peacefully on the mantle, flanked by the tall candles that had once cluttered the desk in his cabin on the many nights when he had stayed up late to examine his star charts. The same star charts, in fact, that were now stacked neatly on a shelf in the adjacent bookcase.

Emma had barely finished showing him the final piece that she had found, a framed painting of a port town that she hadn’t had a chance to hang yet, before Killian’s mouth had descended on hers, his eyes misty. It was only later, when both were slightly more composed, that the painting was hung on the far wall, next to the large window overlooking the ocean in the distance. Killian had never felt so at peace.

However not even the perfect view of the ocean from their window could settle the restlessness that had seeped into his bones since Emma’s disappearance.

It had been days since Regina had wished herself away to wherever Emma had been sent. Killian knew that Regina’s magic was their best asset in helping to find Emma, but it wasn’t a secret that he wished that it had been him to go. In this case, he wasn’t quite sure that no news was necessarily better than bad news.

As of late, the not-small matter of the evil queen had been replaced with the discovery that the hooded figure prophesized to kill Emma had appeared in Storybrook, a concern that fully occupied his mind during the day. He had thrown himself into his books, hoping to find a lead that would help them prevent what Emma believed to be inevitable. _He would be damned if they managed to finally get Emma home only to lose her again._ And while Charming and Snow proved to be exceptional partners in handling this crisis, taking turns managing the burden of their curse to help him research and patrol the town for danger, Killian often found himself wondering what Emma would have done.

Unable to sleep, Killian spent the night checking and rechecking the various door locks and security systems the way Emma had shown him. He had never really understood the need for the fancy electronic system that they had installed when they had moved in, but Emma had insisted.

_“Why do we even need this bloody thing in the first place?” Killian had argued._

_“Because,” Emma had said as she finished programming the last of the security codes, “this tells us if there is an intruder breaking into the house.”_

_“I’m fairly sure I could do that as well, love.” Sidling up behind her, Killian had placed his hand and hook on her hips, nudging his nose playfully at the side of her neck. “As a matter of fact, I might actually pity the person daft enough to break into the savior’s house.” He kissed her neck. “I’ve heard she’s a fierce one.”_

_Emma had grinned, leaning back into his embrace. “Is that so?”_

Killian blinked away the memory, swearing that the room still smelled of Emma’s perfume.

When all of the windows and doors had been checked and there was no more to do, Killian finally made his way into the living room and stretched out on the couch, his left arm pillowing his head as his right came to settle on his stomach. He briefly considered making something to eat, but they hadn’t had time to stock the fridge lately and if he was honest, he didn’t have much of an appetite anyways.

As there was likely no chance of him sleeping tonight, he let his mind go over the findings of the day. Truth be told, there wasn’t much. They had found nothing new about the hooded figure or a sword destined to kill the savior. Instead, he had come across page after page of stories about past suspected saviors that had lived and died and future saviors that were expected to rise from unnamed tragedies that had yet to happen.

Killian let out a breath, rubbing his hand across his face.

The Charmings had agreed that none of these prophecies were likely to relate to Emma, but it had given Killian pause. Would her story be written in these books one day? Would she be written as the savior who vanquished the evil that threatened to devastate her family and her kingdom, or as the savior who died tragically at destiny’s hand?

 _No,_ Killian thought determinedly, _my Emma is too strong for that_.

He was certain that she would come through unscathed, that whatever crisis that was keeping them apart could be overcome by Emma’s unparalleled cleverness and skill. She had to. He had to have faith in her.

He had to have hope.

Hope was the thing that had kept David and Snow together through battle after battle. Their newborn daughter had been whiskey away to another land before they had had the chance to even know her, the young couple waiting decades for the chance to be reunited with her. Then they had been separated by realms, and by a time vortex and by more curses. They had fought their way back to her and had succeeded, time and time again.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would fight until his last breath to get her back, just as there he had no doubts that Emma was currently fighting her way to get back home to her family. Back home to him. He would find her, whatever it took.

But as it stood, Killian couldn’t deny that he would have given anything for even the smallest sign that, wherever she was, Emma was okay.


	2. Two

Killian’s lack of sleep was starting to get to him.

What had started out as a touch of restlessness and the low stirrings of a headache had turned into a full, bodily ache. Every part of him felt sluggish and unresponsive to the point where simply blinking felt like a chore.

As much as he might have wanted to, Charming hadn’t pushed the matter, knowing that there was no way he would have agreed to go home if he had been in Killian’s place. Indeed, the only thing that pulled Charming from the library now was the thought that every moment he spent awake was another that his wife spent under the sleeping curse. With that in mind, Charming had done his best not to judge when Killian had stifled a yawn for the second time in under a minute.

Of course when Snow had tapped in hours later, baby Neil clutched against her hip, she had immediately and rather sternly sent the leather-clad man home. Pulling him out of his chair with her free hand, the queen pushed the pirate captain towards the library door, stating that he was ‘under no circumstances’ to return until he was sufficiently rested. He had tried to argue that he would manage just fine sleeping in the lumpy armchair wedged in the corner but Snow had been firm. He needed a proper sleep.

So it was here that Killian now found himself, standing in the middle of his and Emma’s living room, wondering how best to spend the next few hours. He knew that there would be no way of convincing Snow that he had slept if he hadn’t – she was perceptive like that, like Emma – so he would have to wait until Charming started his shift again in the morning. Unfortunately that wouldn’t be for many more hours still and Killian dreaded having to wait that long to resume his part of the researching.

 _Or you could try sleeping_ came a nagging voice in the back of his mind. He brushed it off in favour of checking and rechecking the locks and security system.

Just as he was finishing the last of his rounds, Killian heard a soft knock on the front door. Puzzled at his late-night guest, he walking across the room and peered through the peephole.

His eyebrows rose as he examined the familiar face before him and Killian began unlocking the door he had dead bolted only minutes before.

The door swung open, revealing Henry’s grinning face.

“Lad, it’s the middle of the night,” Killian said, taking in Henry’s appearance. He was standing with his rucksack slung over his shoulders and a big, fluffy pillow tucked under one arm. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine! I was just wondering if I could stay here with you tonight.” 

“With me?” Henry had come over to the house often enough in the past, but he had always spent most of that time catching up with his mom or playing videogames on the TV that Charming and Snow had sent as a house-warming present. Killian had been thrilled that Henry seemed to be warming up to him more ever since the incident on the _Nautilus_ , but Henry had never been over _just_ to see him before.

Henry’s smile seemed to dim slightly at the look of shock on the pirate’s face. 

“Er, yeah. I mean it’s cool if you don’t, it’s just that my mom – well, both of them, actually – are in another realm and it’s really eerie being in the house alone and grandpa is sleeping at the loft, but it’s not really the same when it’s a sleeping curse, and –“

Henry stopped babbling and looked at Killian with questioning eyes.

“Ah. Well in that case I suppose you’d better come in.”

If it was possible, Henry’s smile brightened tenfold as he passed Killian to enter the house.

Killian followed suit, watching as the boy set his rucksack down with a thud next to the kitchen counter and began rifling through the cupboards. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” Killian offered, unsure of what to do or say.

“Hmm… a beer?”

“Ha bloody ha.”

Killian rolled his eyes at the boy’s cheekiness. He had learned the hard way that the rules in this realm regarding alcohol differed slightly than those of the Enchanted Forest. Regina had nearly ripped his head off the first time he had mistakenly obliged and handed the lad a beer. Though in his defense, his own upbringing had been anything but traditional in this world’s sense and the only children he had ever really known before Storybrooke were the lost boys. With that kind of combination, there was bound to be a steep learning curve.

Killian slid a glass of tap water to where the boy was leaning against the counter and turned to prepare a cup of coffee for himself. 

Henry eyed him warily as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. “It’s kind of late for coffee, isn’t it?”

“I’m hoping that it will lessen my headache a bit.”

“I think a nap might to the trick.”

Killian sighed. “Henry, I can’t. Not while your mothers are still missing.”

“Yeah but there’s nothing you can do right now. You’re exhausted. Besides, if you show up half-asleep at the library tomorrow you know grandma is just gonna drag you home again.”

Killian paused, realization dawning on him. He turned toward the teenager, throwing him an accusatory look.

“You’ve been talking to Snow.”

Henry immediately looked guilty.

 _Perceptive and sly; must run in the family_ Killian thought. “Look, Henry, if you’re here because Snow is concerned about me then you needn’t be.”

“Grandma didn’t send me!” Henry began to protest, but one look at the pirate captain’s face told him that he wasn’t fooled and Henry quickly relented, “Okay yeah maybe she told me that you were having trouble sleeping, but it was my idea to come.” Henry paused, before adding. “You’re family now. Family looks out for each other.”

Killian felt his heart squeeze in his chest and he knew he couldn’t argue with that. Henry was reaching out to him in a way that he hadn’t always in the past and Killian would be a fool not to reach back.

Still, he gave one last ditch effort at placating the boy. “I assure you, I’m just trying to do my best to ensure that your mothers return home safely.”

Henry made a face. “I dunno, I know at least one mom that would _freak_ if she came all the way back from another realm to find you passed out in the street.”

Killian chuckled, raising his hand and hook in a gesture of defeat. The boy had him hook, line and sinker, as it were. “Okay, lad, I concede.”

Without another word, Henry began rummaging around in his overstuffed backpack. With an almighty tug, he pulled free a sleeping bag, a set of Star Wars pajamas and a DVD case.

“So I was thinking that since you’re probably just gonna pass out anyways, we could watch _The Empire Strikes Back_ again. We gotta wait for mom to get back to watch _Return of the Jedi_ , but to be honest that one kind of sucks anyways so you’re not missing much.” 

Killian just nodded in agreement, completely lost, as he watched Henry lay the sleeping bag out between the couch and the TV. Gathering up his pajamas and toothbrush in one had, Henry thrust a package of popcorn into Killian’s hand, calling out instructions on how to work the microwave as he dashed off to the bathroom.

Abandoning the half-made cup of coffee on the counter, Killian began preparing their snacks. When Henry returned, now outfitted in his pajamas, the popcorn was divvied up into two bowls and carried into the living room.

Killian watched Henry tinker with the DVD player from his place on the couch, settling in for the long movie. It was surprising how easily his muscles seemed to relax into the couch tonight and Killian found himself letting out a deep breath as his head came to rest on the small decorative cushion. He watched, relaxed, as the TV flickered to life before him and Henry scrambled back to find his place on his sleeping bag.

Once or twice he found his thoughts turning to his savior and the familiar feeling of worry would start creeping over him again, but each time he would glance down at the boy sitting in front of him and the feelings went away. Emma’s boy was tougher than any boy he had ever met. He had to be worried; both of his mothers were out of reach and one of them was sentenced to die if and when she returned. Yet here he was, having a movie night with an old pirate captain who barely knew how to make microwave popcorn.

Taking in Henry’s form as he sat transfixed at the screen in front of him, Killian couldn’t help but feel calmed.

If Henry could find a moment of peace in the face of even the worst horrors, then maybe Killian could as well. Hadn’t he told Emma something similar before? That there was always a crisis, but that that didn’t mean that you should stop living?

Maybe it was okay, just this once, to take a break.

Soon enough, his eyes began to droop and Killian quickly drifted off to the sounds of spaceships hurtling through space and the soft crunch of popcorn being quickly devoured.


End file.
